


Clarification

by SailorChibi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Play, Baby!Tony, Big Brother Clint Barton, Carrying, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Crying, Cuddling, Daddy!Steve, Diapers, Domestic Avengers, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Howard Stark's Bad Parenting, Hugging, Infantilism, Little!Tony, Pacifiers, Protective Clint Barton, Shy Tony Stark, Team as Family, Toddler!Clint, Tony Stark Has Self-Esteem Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, alternate universe - littles are known, daddy!Phil, little!Clint, naps, non sexual age play, non sexual infantilism, phil coulson is a good daddy, pull-ups, steve rogers loves tony stark, tell the precious bean he's a good boy, thumb sucking, tony stark wants to be good for everyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-09-18 11:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16994097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: At Howard's behest, Tony was never tested to find out what his classification was. When he asks Clint if they can do an experiment to see if Tony can fall into the Little headspace, Clint eagerly agrees. What could go wrong?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Commission for someone who wanted Clint trying to help Tony figure out whether he's little.

Clint hummed softly to himself as he scooped a little of his favorite wax onto a cloth and began rubbing it along the length of his strings. Some people probably would’ve found the chore boring, but, after literally years of maintaining his weapons, he found it comforting. It was just like taking apart his guns and cleaning them; all actions that spoke of safety and security, because you didn’t have the luxury of stopping to tend to your weapons when you were under siege.

He was vaguely aware of someone entering the room and joining him, but knew it was another Avenger just by virtue of the fact that his body remained completely relaxed. He carried on with his task, slowly and methodicially tending to his bow and strings, until he felt that everything was in order. Then he turned to the standard set of arrows he carried with him on missions and went over each one inch by inch, making sure they were all still good.

The scent of something warm and chocolately hit his nose, overriding the smell of wax. Clint blinked out of his tunnel vision and refocused to find that someone had set a plate of three freshly baked cookies beside him. He flicked a quick glance at the rest of the room and realized that it was Tony who had joined him, slumping into the big easy chair kitty corner to Clint, but that whoever had brought the cookies was gone. Tony wouldn’t care if Clint didn’t wash his hands first. Happily, Clint grabbed a cookie and popped it into his mouth.

“Agent would scold you if he saw that,” Tony said without looking away from his tablet.

“He’s not here, is he?” Clint retorted, picking up the second cookie. They were still warm and melted in his mouth. It had to be Natasha who had made them. She favored dark chocolate over milk.

Tony’s mouth quirked up in a smile. “No, I suppose he’s not. He went to SHIELD a couple hours ago. He came in and kissed you goodbye.”

“He did?” Clint blinked, having zero memory of that happening. 

“Yeah, he did. You know he never leaves without telling you first.”

That was true. Coulson was really good about that. It was one of the things Clint loved about him. He also knew that Coulson wouldn’t have taken offence to Clint being too deeply in the zone to acknowledge him. Yet he’d still taken the time to come in and give Clint a kiss. Clint felt warm from head to toe, and a dopey smile spread across his face as he picked up his last cookie.

“Does it ever bother you?” Tony asked.

Clint paused. “Does what bother me?”

“How much they coddle and fuss over you. Do you ever find it stifling?” Tony looked up from his tablet at last, but wouldn’t meet Clint’s eye.

Not sure what was happening here, Clint said slowly, “Yes and no. I found it odd at first. It was hard to get used to. I’d never had a Caregiver until I met Coulson. I used to get confused when he wanted to know where I was or what I was doing. Eventually I got used to it. Now I know it’s because he loves me. I figure it’s the same for the rest of the team. Natasha doesn’t like to hug or cuddle, but things like this,” he tapped the now empty plate, “are how she shows she loves me.”

Tony was quiet for a momet, so Clint stayed silent too. People always expected Tony to be loud, but he wasn’t. He watched Tony from under lowered lashes, wondering what this was about. He’d noticed that Tony had been acting oddly over the past couple of months. They all had. But Tony was nothing if not stubborn. If he wasn’t ready to talk, not even Rhodey would be able to pry words out of him.

Finally, Tony said, “How did you know you were a Little?”

Oh. It was only through long experience that Clint was able to conceal his surprise. He didn’t respond immediately, taking a few seconds to figure out what Tony wanted to hear. Technically, everyone in the United States was supposed to be tested and registered as a Little, Caregiver, Dom, Sub or Baseline before their 21st birthday. Clint hadn’t been tested until his very late twenties, when SHIELD got a hold of him. Paying the $20 for the test hadn’t seemed that important when he was struggling to feed himself.

Tony, on other hand, had never been tested because of his father. Howard Stark had paid the government to look the other way and allow Tony to remain Undesignated. There were a lot of rich people who opted to do that to their kids: an Undesignated label was seen as more favorable than Little or Sub or even, in some circles, Caregiver. No one had ever challenged Tony, but rumors abounded. Howard had to have seen _something_ in his son that made him wanted to pay a truckload of money over finding out the truth.

Clint and Coulson had talked about it a few times, in private and only with each other. Coulson was adamant that Tony was secretly a Little, and a very young Little at that. He was equally adamant that someday, when they’d figure out how to stabilize time travel, he was going to go back in time and personally torture Howard Stark and Harold Barton for everything they’d done to Tony and Clint. Clint had never shared that particular tidbit with Tony, though he knew Natasha and Steve shared similar sentiments.

“Well,” Clint said finally, “I didn’t, really. Not until I was with SHIELD and I started feeling safer. When I didn’t need to worry about being attacked at any moment, or finding food for myself, then my Little side could come out. Having Coulson around made it better… or worse, depending on your perspective. He really made me feel small and… and _little_. Like I could just lean into him and let him take care of everything.”

He looked up at Tony and caught sight of a flush on Tony’s cheeks. Tony didn’t say anything, so Clint continued, “It was hard at first, figuring out how to let myself go. I thought I had to do it right. It helped once Coulson told me that there was no perfect way of doing it. I just had to do what was right for me, and he’d be there. We’d figure it out together. And he kept that promise.” He caught himself smiling foolishly again and stopped, forcing a slightly more serious expression onto his face.

“I see,” Tony said softly. That was it. It wasn’t enough.

“Why do you ask?” Clint asked.

Tony shrugged, looking down at his lap. In a move that had to be unconscious, he ran his thumb over his lower lip. It was a nervous habit that Tony did a lot when he was feeling nervous or uncomfortable, but only within the safety of the Tower. Clint had never seen him do it anywhere else, and it made Clint feel softer. A little protective. He shifted, turning fully towards Tony.

“Do you think you’re a Little?”

The question hung in the air. Tony’s shoulder stiffened and his breath quickened, but otherwise he didn’t respond. In Clint’s less than expert opinion, that was as good as a yes. He wondered why Tony wasn’t going to Steve with this. Tony and Steve, once they worked through all their initial rough edges, got on extremely well, and Steve was a Caregiver. The only person who was oblivious to the wistfully longing looks Steve gave Tony, was Tony.

But maybe Tony wasn’t so oblivious, and that was the problem.

“I don’t know,” Tony said at last. “I’ve never known. It’s just…” He trailed off.

“Just?” Clint prompted gently.

“Sometimes when I watch them with you, I think I want that,” Tony mumbled. “I see you and I think… I could be that way too. I just don’t know how. And I don’t know if I could. I know what Steve wants. If I tried and I couldn’t do it, it would ruin _everything_.” The words came spilling out in a low, miserable rush. “So I can’t tell him, but then I just – I want – I – ” He stuttered to a stop, voice cracking.

“Hey,” Clint whispered, because this sounded an awful lot like the beginnings of an overwhelmed breakdown, and, as much as he wanted to help Tony, he was not really equipped to handle that. 

But then, before his very eyes, Tony visibly reined himself in. His head came up and his shoulders relaxed, a smile washing away all of the emotion that had just been painted across his face. Clint stared at him in fascination. If you knew Tony well, you’d see where all the cracks were. The smile that didn’t reach his eyes was the most obvious tell. But someone who didn’t would probably be fooled.

“It’s nothing. Never mind,” Tony said, moving to get up.

“Whoa, no. I never said I wouldn’t help,” Clint said hastily, throwing out a hand to stop him from leaving. “It’s just – I don’t want you to force yourself into anything. So why don’t we experiment with no one else around?”

Tony did stop then, looking at him suspiciously.

“It won’t be that hard. We’ll just have to wait until Steve and Coulson both head off to SHIELD,” Clint said. Because if someone was going to catch them, it would hands down be Steve or Coulson. “We can go up to my floor and just… see what happens.”

“You would do that?” Tony said. “I thought you weren’t supposed to be in your headspace when you’re alone?”

“I wouldn’t be alone. You’d be there,” Clint said, smiling innocently. It was a blatant twist of the rules and they both knew it. Clint didn’t know any other Littles, so Coulson’s rule about telling an adult when he was in his headspace had never been amended to exclude Littles. He’d probably get in trouble for this if Coulson ever found out.

It would be worth it, though. Clint had to contain a burst of excitement at the thought of having another Little around. Especially Tony! And even if it turned out that Tony wasn’t a Little, it would hopefully help Tony feel better. Opening yourself up to affection could be really hard, but if anyone could benefit from it, it was Tony.

“And…” Tony hesitated a bit. “You… you wouldn’t tell Steve?”

“No, of course not,” Clint said kindly. He wanted to say that Steve _adored_ Tony, and would be over the moon to help with this experiment. But he didn’t. If he pushed too far too fast, Tony would clam up and never bring the subject up again.

Tony nodded. “Okay then. When do you want to do it?”

“I think Coulson, Natasha and Steve have a thing at SHIELD on Friday,” Clint said, squinting into the distance in an effort to remember. He vaguely remembered Coulson talking about it, mostly because Coulson wanted Clint there too. It was supposed to be mandatory for all SHIELD employees, and Steve was attending as the head of the Avengers. But Clint was pretty sure he could get out of it without too much trouble. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d missed some mandatory meeting, and it wouldn’t be the last.

“I could do Friday. I’ll make sure JARVIS keeps my schedule clear. Thanks, Clint.” 

“No problem,” Clint said, watching as Tony promptly beat a hasty retreat from the room. Tony would probably go down to his workshop and spend the next five or six hours burying himself in work, until Steve got home and went down to drag him out. In a way, those two were already in a pseudo Caregiver-Little relationship. It seemed like Tony just needed some clarification.

Well, that was fine. Clint grinned with anticipation and rubbed his hands together. Coulson’s instincts were usually pretty bang on, and he thought that Tony was a young Little. He’d have to pull out all of the toys he played with when his headspace sank down to the lower range of his spectrum. Maybe he could even get his hands on a few toys for _really_ young Littles and see if Tony gravitated towards those. Only the governmental test could tell you for sure, but that would be a start.

This was going to be _fun_.


	2. Chapter 2

At half past one on Friday, Clint just happened to be outside the tower. The batteries in his phone had mysteriously died, so there was no way for anyone to contact him. He whistled softly to himself, patiently waiting until he knew for sure that the SHIELD mission had begun. There’d be hell to pay later from Couslon for missing it, but it wouldn’t be the first time and it probably wouldn’t be the last.

Besides, if this experiment worked, then it would all be worth it. Coulson might even be so pleased that Tony was happier that he wouldn’t scold Clint too harshly. Clint smiled smugly, pushing off the building he’d been leaning against and swaggering back towards the tower. No one looked twice at him in his baggy, ill-fitting clothing, and that was exactly the way he wanted it. He ducked around to the entrance only the Avengers used and went inside.

“JARVIS, where’s Tony?” Clint asked, heading for the elevator.

“Sir is waiting for you on your floor,” JARVIS replied. If it was possible for an A.I. to sound amused, and by this point Clint was pretty sure that it was, then JARVIS was. “Agent Coulson would like for me to pass along the message that he is not impressed with you at the moment, and that you will be having a very long conversation tonight about why good agents don’t shirk their duties.”

“Never said I was a good agent,” Clint muttered to himself, hard-pressed to fight his grin. If Coulson was passing messages along through JARVIS, he couldn’t be that annoyed.

The elevator doors opened to reveal Tony sitting on the couch. With a single glance, Clint could tell that Tony was massively uncomfortable and probably only seconds away from bolting. Instead of sprawling out across the couch like he normally did, or at least pulling out his phone to entertain himself while he waited, Tony was sitting stiffly upright, with his hands clenched in his lap. Yikes. Clint needed to do something to defuse this situation fast, or it was going to turn into a disaster.

“Chocolate milk!” he called out, stepping out of the elevator, and Tony’s head swiveled around to reveal a confused look.

“What?” he asked, sounding baffled.

“It’s my go-to drink of choice when Daddy’s not around,” Clint replied, walking towards the kitchen. He was pleased when Tony got up and followed him, and noted that at least Tony was wearing jeans and an old tank top as opposed to a full, tailored suit.

“Why chocolate milk?” Tony asked, still looking adorably confused.

“’Cause he says too much of it is bad for me, and that just plain milk is better,” Clint explained. He carefully removed the container of milk from the refrigerator and then went to the cupboard where they kept the chocolate syrup. Clint could drink as much chocolate milk as he wanted when he was feeling big, but he never craved it unless he was feeling Little. Ergo, he cherished these moments when he was on the cusp, Couslon wasn’t around, and he could drink as much as he liked.

He took two sippy cups from the cupboard, twisted the lids off, and filled them with milk. Tony twitched a bit at the sight of the cups, but said nothing. Clint took that as tacit permission and added a healthy dose of chocolate syrup to each cup. Then he grabbed a spoon and quickly stirred together the contents, turning the milk a deep brown color. He grinned, licked the spoon clean, and then put the lids back on.

“Wanna watch some cartoons?” he suggested, holding one of the cups out.

“Okay,” Tony said quietly, taking the cup after a moment of hesitation. He held it awkwardly, like he wasn’t really sure what to do with it. Clint deliberately caught his gaze and held it as he put the spout of his own cup to his lips and sucked. A stream of delicious milk flowed into his mouth and he swallowed with a happy sigh. 

Tony blinked and then smiled. It was small, but it was there so Clint counted it as a win. He grinned back and took Tony’s hand, pulling him back into the living room. He pointed Tony over to the couch and then ran into the bedroom for a moment. He’d never seen anyone who needed a cuddle with a stuffed animal as much as Tony Stark, and, while Clint didn’t have a ton of stuffed toys, he did have a few that would work.

He found his own favored toy, a black owl, without too much effort, and managed to root out another one he didn’t cuddle as much: a fat, soft pink pig. He tucked both under his arm and darted back out into the living room. Tony had sat down again, and had the sippy cup of milk perched on one knee. He looked up at Clint and tried to smile, clearly uncomfortable.

“Here,” Clint said, thrusting the pig at him.

“What’s this for?” Tony asked. He made no move to take it, so Clint dropped the pig in his lap.

“It’s to cuddle, silly,” Clint replied, sitting down on the other end of the couch. He pulled his knees up and securely tucked his owl into his lap, then took another gulp of chocolate milk. 

“Um, okay,” Tony said doubtfully. 

“Didn’t you ever cuddle toys when you were a kid?” Clint asked. He regretted the question as soon as he saw Tony’s face, the way his mouth tightened at the corners and his eyes darkened. Knowing what Clint knew of Howard Stark, the answer was quite possibly no. Howard didn’t seem like the kind of man who would be okay with even a young child playing with toys. If Tony had ever gotten to cuddle a toy, it might’ve happened when he was too young to remember it. That was so unfair that Clint had to bite his tongue to keep from snapping.

Deciding that it was best to let the moment pass by without comment, because Tony would definitely run if he felt pushed, he picked up the remote and turned on the television. It wasn’t too hard to find some cartoons, since it was the middle of the day and only things on were cartoons and soap operas. He settled back against the couch and kept drinking his milk, pretending that his sole focus was the television. 

It took several minutes, but eventually Tony relaxed too. He put the spout of his cup to his lips and took a drink. He must have approved of the taste because he began drinking with more enthusiasm. Clint smiled to himself and finished his own milk, wondering what Tony thought of drinking out of a sippy cup. Coulson insisted on them when Clint was in his headspace – seriously, drop one glass of orange juice and the world never forgot – and Clint had gotten used to them, but it wouldn’t be something Tony was familiar with.

“So is this it?” Tony asked finally. “You just… sit and watch cartoons?”

“Sometimes,” Clint said, glancing over at him. “When Daddy’s here, he’ll play with me or I play on my own. But… yeah, this is it. It’s not a whole big thing. It’s just… relaxing.”

“Does Coulson find it relaxing too? Even though he’s taking care of you?”

“I think so. Caregivers feel a compulsive need to care for people, after all. If they want to, and they don’t have the opportunity to do so in a way that suits them, they could have a breakdown or worse. He says he finds it comforting and relaxing to spend time with me when I’m in my headspace, because he can solve all my problems. There’s nothing world-ending about a toddler who wants cookies for supper.” Clint shrugged. 

Tony smiled slightly. “Have you ever actually gotten cookies for supper?”

“No,” Clint admitted. “In spite of my best efforts, he remains resistent to the idea.”

“Isn’t that why it’s better to be big? Because you can do whatever you want, when you want, with no one to tell you otherwise?”

Clint considered that for a couple of minutes, letting the cartoons fill the silence while he mulled over how to respond. “I do like being big sometimes. I know I am a Little, but I don’t think I could be in my headspace all the time. Maybe if I’d grown up that way… but it’s not what I’m used to. However, I also like being in my headspace. I like that I can let go and trust that someone else will take care of things, whether that’s feeding me supper or putting a roof over my head.”

“You’ll always have a roof over your head,” Tony said, somewhat sharply, and Clint smiled fondly.

“Yeah, I know that now. But for a long time, I didn’t. Coulson makes me feel like that’s something that I don’t have to worry about, and for me that’s… that’s pretty huge.”

He waited to see if Tony was going to say something else, but Tony remained quiet. Clint figured that was the end of their conversation for the time being and turned back to the television, but the cartoons had ended. He frowned and picked up the remote again, flipping through the channels. Soap operas were funny sometimes, but usually the storylines went way over his head when he was in his headspace.

As he switched to a new channel, he heard a quiet sound. Automatically, he turned to look at Tony. His eyes widened when he saw the tears that were rolling down Tony’s cheeks. He didn’t think he’d ever seen Tony cry before, not even when they were in the middle of a battle and a building collapsed on top of the Iron Man armor. It was so unexpected that Clint just sat there, staring, for several seconds.

Tony didn’t cry loudly, or even make any sound at all. He’d curled in on himself, both arms wrapped tightly around the stuffed pig, and he had his head bowed and his eyes squeezed shut. Tears streamed down his face, rolling off his chin and dripping down onto the toy. He was shaking from head to toe.

“Tony?” Clint whispered, horrified. He wracked his brain, trying to think of what he might’ve said or done to set Tony off like this, but he was drawing a blank.

His panic mounted when Tony failed to respond to the sound of his name. Clint wanted to reach over and touch him, but he hesitated to do that. Tony was sensitive to being touched at the best of times, and to do so now, when he seemed to be lost in his own grief, could potentially scare him into a panic attack or a flashback. Yet saying Tony’s name wasn’t helping either. Clint was at a loss.

“Tony, hey. It’s okay. You don’t have to cry,” Clint said frantically, sitting up on his knees. What did his daddy do when Clint was upset? He really wanted to help, but he didn’t know what to do and watching Tony cry like this was really scary. His own eyes started to water.

Then, like magic, the elevator doors flew open and Steve and Coulson emerged. Both of them looked a little frantic. Clint burst into tears the second he caught sight of his daddy, jumping up off of the couch. He ran towards Coulson, arms out-stretched.

“Daddy, I broke Tony!” he bawled.

“Oh, Clint,” Coulson said, looking at once relieved and worried, catching Clint up in a big hug.

“Tony,” Steve breathed at the same time. 

“Go to him, Steve. I’ll take Clint into the bedroom. You two take as long as you need,” Coulson said. He quickly guided Clint out of the room. The last thing Clint saw was Steve moving quickly towards the couch. Then the door shut behind them and Clint was left staring up at his daddy, who was looking down at him with a very disappointed expression that made Clint’s tummy curl.

“Clint Barton, what were you thinking?”

“I… Tony just wanted to experiment,” Clint said, sniffing. “He wanted to know what it was like to be Little.”

Coulson sighed and knelt down, brushing the tears from Clint’s face. “Honey, experiments like that are dangerous without any big people around. You know that.”

“But Tony didn’t want any big people around. He wanted to be just me and him!”

“I’m sure he did, but Tony doesn’t always think clearly about this kind of stuff,” Coulson murmured. “You are very lucky that JARVIS was monitoring you two and that he got word to me and Steve as soon as your little stunt began. This could have been very dangerous otherwise.”

Clint clutched his owl, terrified. “What… what’s gonna happen to Tony?!”

“Steve will take care of him, just like I take care of you,” Coulson said, pulling Clint into a hug.


	3. Chapter 3

Clint didn’t actually see Tony for the next two days. He asked JARVIS, but all JARVIS would tell him was that Tony was still in Steve’s care. It made Clint restless. He trusted Steve to look after Tony, of course he did, but getting information from JARVIS wasn’t enough. He wanted to talk to Tony and hear it from Tony’s own lips that he was okay and that Clint hadn’t completely fucked up.

He was sitting alone in the living room, pointedly _not_ sulking no matter what Natasha said, owl in his lap and a bottle of beer in hand. There was a plate of cheese puffs within easy reach on the coffee table, but he hadn’t touched them yet. He looked at the television without really watching it, his thoughts on Tony. He was so busy thinking about Tony that he missed the moment when Tony walked into the room.

“Is this sulk-fest just for one person, or can anyone join?” Tony asked.

“Tony!” Clint nearly dropped his beer. “You’re – you’re okay?” He didn’t mean it to come out like a question, but he couldn’t help it. He looked Tony over quickly, noticing that Tony looked tired. But he also looked good in a way Clint wasn’t expecting. More relaxed, like some of the weight of the world had been taken off his shoulders.

“I wouldn’t say I’m okay, but I’m better,” Tony said, taking a seat beside Clint. He took the unopened bottle of beer from Clint’s hand and set it on the coffee table. “Steve and I… we have some more talking to do. But JARVIS said you were really worried about me, so I thought I’d take a break and come see how you were doing. Wouldn’t want my favorite bird to worry himself into a state.” He grinned.

“Fuck you, “Clint said easily. “Last I saw you, you were not in a good place. Don’t even try to deny it.”

Tony’s smile faded. “Yeah, you’ve got me there. That experiment probably wasn’t our best idea.”

“What was your first clue?” Clint snarked.

“Well, I figured it out during hour two of Steve’s four hour lecture on why Littles don’t go into their headspaces without having a responsible adult nearby. Emphasis on responsible, which apparently you and I are not.”

“I think I’m offended,” Clint muttered, though he really wasn’t. Steve was right, after all. He eyed Tony. “So, you including yourself in that Little category?”

Tony licked his lips. “Would it be weird if I said yes?”

“If you only knew how many lectures _I’ve_ had to sit through wherein Coulson vowed to go back in time and torture your father for paying off the government so that you’d be Unclassified…”

“Oh my god, for real?” Tony asked, letting out a startled laugh.

“So many,” Clint said with a nod. “Coulson is really good at reading people, you know that. He’s had you pegged as A Little for like… ever. I think it was actually killing him at one point to keep quiet about it, but then I told him to back off.”

“You did? Why?” 

Clint turned to look at him seriously. “It’s the kind of thing you need to come to terms with on your time, Tony. No one can force this kind of revelation on you. If you’re not ready for it, you won’t accept it. Period. You weren’t ready. Anyone could’ve seen that.”

“That was almost sweet, Barton,” Tony said, dropping his gaze. “Yes. My answer… it’s yes.”

“Finally,” Clint said with a sigh, and then yelped when Tony punched him in the arm.

“Brat!” Tony said with a narrow-eyed glare, but his mouth was twitching like he was trying not to laugh. “I’m still working it out, okay? Getting a feel for what works for me. I think I’m probably a young Little, but I can’t really tell you much more than that because I don’t know myself.”

“I figured you were a Baby,” Clint admitted.

Tony’s cheeks reddened. “You’re… probably not too far off,” he mumbled. “But if you tell anyone that –”

“I’m not stupid, Tony. I wouldn’t. Except…” Clint hesitated, then said sheepishly, “Coulson made me promise I wouldn’t hide any more secrets from him. Is it okay if I tell him?”

“I figured you would. Agent is fine. I trust him.” Tony relaxed a little, leaning back against the couch. “Steve and I are still working on it. I have no idea what I like and don’t like. I used to experiment a little sometimes, but I stopped when I started going too deep. So… I have a lot to catch up on, according to Steve.”

“Is he helping?”

“Yeah, he really is.” There was something soft about Tony’s face when he looked up, something that made Clint want to smile. “That day… I probably freaked you out, crying like that. I, uh, wanted to say sorry.”

“Dude, it’s fine,” Clint said, waving his hand. “It happens.”

“Not to me,” Tony muttered to himself, then shook his head. “It’s just… what you were saying about Coulson taking care of you? I never realized how much I wanted that until you were talking about it. And it just… it kinda hit me that I don’t have that, and I never really have. I didn’t know it was possible to want something as much as I wanted that, and the thought that I’d never have it…” He trailed off, swallowing.

Quietly, Clint said, “I get it, Tony. Really, I do. I’ve been there. A lot.” Needing something to do with his hands, he fiddled with his owl. “Just because I’ve got Coulson doesn’t mean those feelings go away. There are lots of nights where Coulson talks me down. I’m just glad that Steve was there, because I was seriously freaking out about what I was gonna do to comfort you.”

Tony snorted. “Not so great at caregiving?” 

“God no. There’s a reason why I’m firmly on the Little side of the classification. I mean, I would’ve given it my best shot, but yeah. It would’ve been a disaster all around.”

“But you would’ve tried,” Tony said softly. “So thanks.”

“No worries. You’d do the same thing for me, right?” Clint shrugged one shoulder, knowing that it was true. Tony’s comment about how Clint would always have a home now was something that Clint would carry with him for the rest of his life. 

“Well, maybe. I’m not so great at coping mechanisms myself, unless it’s socially acceptable now to give kids cheeseburgers and whiskey,” Tony joked.

“Hey, we’re not kids all the time,” Clint said, nodding at his beer. “Wanna join me?”

“Yes, but no to the beer. I don’t think I’m… you know, in the right place for it.” Tony made a motion towards his head and Clint nodded understandingly. He, better than anyone, knew exactly what Tony meant. There were times when you walked the line between your headspaces, not quite all the way into either one, and drugs or alcohol usually had… _interesting_ reactions during those times.

“I’m probably not either, to be honest, but sometimes I like pretending that I am,” Clint said. He leaned forward and snagged the bowl of cheese puffs, setting them between him and Tony. “So, just out of curiousity, would you ever be up for a play date?”

Tony seemed surprised by the question. “You’d want one? Really?”

“Are you kidding me? I never get to play with other Littles. My decision to help you wasn’t purely selfless, you know.”

“I’ll think about it, and talk to Steve,” Tony said. 

Clint nodded. “Fair enough.”

They sat for a while, watching soap operas and making fun of the corny stories. Tony had a truly wicked sense of humor when it came to the spurned lovers and surprise pregnancy parts. Clint wasn’t sure who fell asleep first, but suddenly he was waking up with a crick in his neck and his cheesy fingers still in the bowl. He squinted, wondering what had woken him up, and realized that he and Tony were no longer along: Steve and Thor had joined them. Steve was in the middle of bending down to scoop Tony up.

“I shall take Clint up to Coulson,” Thor said as quietly as he could, and if Clint hadn’t been awake he would’ve been after that. Nothing Thor did was ever actually quiet.

“I’m fine here,” Clint mumbled.

Thor chuckled. “Fear not, small one. I’ll carry you.” He gripped Clint beneath the arms and gently drew him up, holding Clint securely against his chest. Clint grumbled but, since there was no arguing with Thor, wrapped his hands around Thor’s neck. That allowed him to see Steve and Tony.

It looked like Tony was still sound asleep, which wasn’t surprising when Clint considered how long Tony had probably been awake before this all started. Steve was lifting Tony up, bracing Tony against his hip and keeping him there with an arm beneath Tony’s bottom and his other hand on Tony’s back. Even in his sleep, Tony melted into Steve’s embrace. There was a look of such adoration on Steve’s face that Clint felt a pang of awkward shame, as though he was observing something that was intimate and not meant to be shared. He quickly squeezed his eyes shut.

“Clint must be tired if he’s letting you carry him,” Steve commented, voice lighter than it had been in months. Maybe ever.

“It’s late,” Thor said. “I’m surprised Coulson wasn’t down here looking for him earlier.”

“I think Clint and Tony needed to talk.” Steve stepped back from the couch. “Don’t forget Clint’s owl, Thor. He’ll never be able to sleep without it.” 

“Of course.” Thor stooped down far enough to snag the owl, which he passed up into Clint’s hands. Clint gripped his toy tightly, rubbing his cheek against it as Thor and Steve began walking towards the elevator. JARVIS opened the door automatically, since both Steve and Thor had their arms full. 

The elevator rose silently until it stopped at Steve’s floor. With a quiet, “Goodnight, Thor”, Steve stepped out of the elevator. As the doors closed behind Steve and Tony, Thor hummed softly.

“Our Captain is very good for Tony, and Tony is good for our Captain. They match well,” he observed.

“Yeah, they do,” Clint mumbled through a yawn. Caregivers were stronger than Baseline humans, which meant that they could usually carry Littles. Coulson struggled with that sometimes after he’d been stabbed by Loki; whether or not he could lift Clint’s weight tended to depend on if his chest was bothering him. But Clint usually protested being carried anyway, because he felt that was something that only babies really enjoyed.

Tonight though, he had to admit he could see the potential in it. There was something really nice about the fact that he could maintain his half-asleep state, and comforting about feeling Thor’s strong arms wrapped securely around him. He knew that Thor would never drop him, after all. He nuzzled closer, closing his eyes with a sleepy sigh, and felt Thor’s arms tighten briefly around him.

They all knew that Thor missed Loki, after all.

“Friend Coulson, I believe this is yours,” Thor rumbled, moving again.

“Ah yes, that is mine,” Coulson said from somewhere behind Clint, sounding fondly amused. “Bring him into the nursery, would you, Thor?”

Had Clint been more awake, he would’ve grumbled about his bedroom not being a nursery. Nurseries were for babies like Tony. Clint was definitely not a baby, thank you very much. But he was tired, and he was pretty sure that kind of comment would only garner him indulgent looks that would only make him feel littler than he already did, so he settled for pouting harder.

Thor carried him into the bedroom and set him down on his bed. Clint rolled away as soon as he felt the covers beneath him, burying his head beneath the pillows in the hopes that they would both just go away. He heard Thor give a quiet laugh and Coulson murmur something to him, but the words were spoken too softly for Clint’s hearing aids to pick up. But he did hear the sound of Thor leaving.

Then there were familiar hands on him, tugging at his sneakers. They slid off and the hands stopped for a moment before returning, this time removing his socks. When the hands started trying to pull him onto his back, Clint whined and tried to push them away. Coulson gripped his wrists gently to make him stop, then reached up to remove the pillows. 

“You can’t sleep in your clothes, Clint. You know that.”

“Can so,” Clint said stubbornly. 

“I say you can’t,” Coulson replied calmly, reaching for Clint’s belt. Clint scowled but didn’t fight this time, letting Coulson open the belt and pull his jeans down his legs. He only reacted when he felt his boxers going with them.

“Hey, no! I don’t need a pull-up tonight!”

Coulson gave him a kind, if pointed, look. “Clint, you let Thor carry you to bed. You can’t tell me that you’re not at the younger cusp of your headspace tonight. You know what happens when you’re feeling really little and you go to bed without a pull-up.”

“I do not wet the bed,” Clint muttered, even though he knew that was a lie. He usually had a pretty good grasp on his bladder and bowel control, but sometimes that could get flimsy when he was really tired or, as Coulson had said, at the younger end of his headspace. But he didn’t like to admit it. 

He wondered, somewhat belatedly, how Tony had done with that over the years. He’d never seen Tony in a diaper, of course, but he must’ve done something. After all, if Tony was a baby, he would have next to no control. Maybe, Clint thought, that was one of the things that had forced Tony to really examine the idea that he was a Little. It would be pretty hard to bury your head in the sand with such concrete evidence staring you in the face. 

Coulson finished removing Clint’s jeans and boxers and moved on to his shirt. When Clint was naked, he cajoled Clint into standing so that Clint could slide on a pull-up and a pajama top. Forgoing the bottoms, Clint sank back down onto the bed with a yawn. He picked up his owl and held it, rubbing the feathers between his fingers. Coulson sat beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“You talked to Tony,” he said. “How did it go?”

“Okay, I think. Tony’s a Little. A baby.” Clint was really glad that Tony had given him permission to tell Coulson. He would’ve felt like a snake telling Coulson otherwise, and it was likely Coulson would’ve figured it out even if Clint hadn’t outright told him.

“I think torture is too good for Howard Stark,” Coulson said thoughtfully. “Perhaps I’ll bring Natasha back too and she can maim him.”

“Daddy!” Clint said with a laugh. To anyone else, they would’ve thought Coulson was joking. Clint knew that his daddy was perfectly serious. If SHIELD ever figured out a stable version of time travel, Howard Stark and Harold Barton were seriously fucked.

“I’m just saying,” Coulson said. “Is Tony okay with that?”

Clint considered the question, tilting his head. “I think so? If he’s not, he’s getting there. For him to have brought it up in the first place, he has to have seen enough clues for him to think that’s the logical conclusion. I think the experiment with me was really about confirming it. And having Steve there seems to be helping a lot. I mean, you know Steve. He’s been dying for the urge to cuddle Tony the way he wants to since the night Tony fell asleep on his lap during movie night.”

“I remember,” Coulson said with a nod. “I’m proud of you, Clint, for helping him. I don’t like the way you did it, but you were there for Tony when he needed you.”

Clint flushed. “It was self-serving. I want someone to play with.”

“Having more than one motive isn’t necessarily a bad thing, Sweetheart. Tony’s lucky to have a friend like you. He’s going to need your support a lot more in the next few weeks. You remember how hard it was for you to accept being a Little and getting affection? It’s going to be like that.”

“I remember, and I’ll help anyway I can,” Clint said determinedly.

Coulson smiled. “That’s my boy. I suspect I’ll be helping Steve, too. He’s never really cared for anyone before, much less a baby. Babies and toddlers require a special touch.”

“We do not,” Clint said, pouting. But that pout soon faded away when Coulson tickled him, and he giggled instead, grabbing at Coulson’s fingers.

“We’ll whip them into shape,” Coulson promised, laughing too, and Clint grinned.

“Hell yeah we will.”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


End file.
